Extended Credit
by Maudlin Matryoshka
Summary: On the fifth day of the G-20 summit, America and England are presenting a new economic policy that seems...unlikely, to say the least. Do heroes always win the day? Drabble.


Setting: Present day.

* * *

"C'mon, everyone, five more minutes, okay? Stay with me here."

As the fifth day of the annual G-20 dragged on the intricacies of economic planning, many of the nations had mentally checked out. As the leader of the proposed bill on the table, America was giving the presentation, but was struggling to keep his audience's attention. Many of them had retreated into themselves, as nations are want to do, checking in on their people and affairs back home. Even Germany, who usually had so little patience for distracted nations was staring at the threatening clouds outside. The sleepy silence was only punctuated by the occasional sniffs, coughs, and sneezes of the nations, showing the ailing symptoms of their economies. Tissues littered the room like snow.

America looked helplessly around the room. Only Japan, ever polite, ever loyal, was dutifully taking notes. Even Canada seemed to have fallen into a stupor.

"Guys. GUYS!" America yelled, bringing a giant fist down on the table and causing the nations to jump. "You would think you'd all be a little more interested in what I'm saying considering it affects EVERY ONE OF YOU. I don't know if you realized this, but we're in a GLOBAL RESSESION." He paused for a moment to cover a sneeze. "That means every one of you should find economic policy the most facinating damn thing right now so we can all quit it with the sniffling."

The nations shifted in their seats, muttering apologies or muffled indignancies. Across the room, Japan flashed America a rare smile of encouragement. America smiled back, and kicked his project partner, England, under the table.

"You're not doing a whole lot to help, you know," he hissed at him.

"Sorry, sorry," England grumbled, stirring his tea. "I'll give the next part of the show, if you like."

"Whatever. Make sure you have your notes ready. Here comes the storm."

America turned back to the chastized nations. "Now, to get back on track, you've already heard the damage. Here comes the solution..." The nations, reprimanded into paying a cursory level of attention, began to be absorbed by America's speech. As they listened, most eyes grew wider. Some mouths dropped. There were even a few scoffs. As America neared the finish, China stood in frustration.

"Enough of this. I will not be toyed with." He turned to leave.

"Not done yet, China," America called after him.

China did not stop. "If you think that any of this is more than another of your mad fantasies, you've got another thing coming." He slammed the door on his way out.

Seemingly unshaken, America finished his portion of the presentation smoothly. When he called for questions, however, the shocked silence that had accompanied his plan soon dissolved.

"You do realize the insanity of this, da?" Russia said.

"Veh...I don't like it. Too many risks. Too much extended credit, and I already have too much of that."

"Uh-un," Australia for good measure.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on, you're not considering-" America tried to counteract, but he had already lost his credibility in the eyes of the audience. Instead, England quietly took the podium.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, there is still more to this presentation. Quiet, please." With remarkable poise, England continued the case, laying out facts and figures calmly. Reason started to return to the freaked out nations, but the wary looks and the contemptuous smirks stayed. As he continues, however, the smirks began to droop. The plan was layed out elegantly, simply, beautifying the complex American version, and the nations responded appropriately. America watched in amazement as the audience calmed and began to consider their arguments. Soon after, a short tone was played over a loudspeaker, signaling the start of the half-hour voting period. As England left the podium, America stared at him in confused admiration.

"I have no idea what you just did dude, but they totally bought it! This plan might actually have a shot after all!"

"As if," England responed cuttingly, wiping the grin from America's face. "I have half a mind to call up that addlepated President of yours and give him the what-for... this plan is insanity." Seeing America's frown, England deflated. "I-I think I'll just take a walk outside. Do make sure security doesn't lock me out this time, will you?"

* * *

America paced outside the voting room doors, awaiting the results of the vote. As the authoring country, his vote was already cast, as was England's. The room seemed sticky, though it was probably only due to his nerves. He peeled off his blazer, crumpled it into a ball, and mimed a shot, landing it on a chair across the room. At last, unable to stand the anticipation, he cracked the door open.

"Hey, psst!"

"Yes, Mr. America?" one of the guards whispered.

"Wanna tell me how the vote went?"

The guard seemed to smile. "You've won, sir. Barely. But there's enough now."

"Thanks!" America gently closed the door before racing out of the room, backtracking only to grab an umbrella from the corner. It looked like rain.

* * *

"Arrrthur! Arthur Kirkland!" America yelled jubilatly as soon as he hit the pavement. Hearing no response, he raced to the end of the sideawlk and skidded around the corner.

"Arthur!"

At the other end of the sidewalk, England was walking, hands in his pockets, looking grumbly from the rain. America raced up to him and grabbed him in a bear hug, covering them both with the umbrella.

"Oh, my. Where did you come from?" Arthur's tone was considerably brighter than his appearence, and his arms automatically went around America's back.

"We won, we won, we won, we WON!" America yelled, nearly picking England up.

"Are you serious, lad?" England said, pulling back to read America's expression.

"A hundred percent, absolutely!"

Uncharacteristically, the taciturn Brit let out an excited whoop of his own.

"Heroes win the day!" America exclaimed, and darted forward to brush a kiss on Arthur's cheek before grabbing his hand and dragging him back towards the conference building. "Come on come on come on! They're waiting!"

England touched a surprised hand to his cheek, and broke into a wide grin, speeding up to goad America into a race. "Waiting for you, perhaps!"

* * *

**A/N:** I...don't even know what this is. A drabble; something old found in the dark recesses of my Dropbox. Blame the weather, it's rainy where I live.

Note: I'm an oddfish in the Hetalia fandom, as I don't really ship. Brother love forever :)

R&R please.


End file.
